on its lonely sheltered dwelling,
That is sweet, oh that is sweet.
But the sight of Hywel coming, sweeter is than flower that groweth,
On his cheeks a rarer beauty, near the fold at hour of gloaming,
Sweeter is a thousand times, oh sweeter far.

Laughing ever in the sunlight, primrose brakes the hillside cover,
April breezes stir the petals till they smile e'en in the twilight;
They are sweet, oh they are sweet.
So in spite of opposition, true and constant is my lover,
Ne'er a moment he forgets me, in the night of persecution,
Sweetheart mine, O sweetheart mine.

Sweet the countless daisies flecking grass-green glade and meadow dewy,
Like some rare and precious jewels nature's verdant garments decking,
They are sweet, oh they are sweet.
But the eyes of Hywel glowing, 'neath his forehead broad and ruddy,
When the tears--love's best enchantment--fill them full to over-flowing,
Are sweeter far a thousand times, oh, sweeter far.

Roses white and lilies tender, marigolds and all sweet posies
Scenting all the air together, fair are they in summer weather,
O lilies white, O roses fair!
But like every summer blossom, lilies fade and so do roses,
There's one flower that fadeth never, bloom of love will last for ever,
Sweetheart mine, O sweetheart mine.

Leafy beech in verdant hollow--mighty oak with branches hoary,
Sycamores--all proudly wearing autumn garb of russet yellow,
These are fair, oh these are fair.
But when darling Hywel's near me, what care I for woodland glory?
Fairer far than all the greenwood is my sweetheart's face to cheer me,
Fairer far a thousand times, oh fairer far.

Sweet the song of thrushes filling all the air with shake and quiver,
While the feathered songsters, vying each with each, their songs are
trilling,
Sweet the sound, oh sweet the sound.
But to me my love's caressing words and looks are sweeter ever,
Would this moment I were near him, and my lips to his were pressing,
Sweetheart mine, O sweetheart mine.

God in heaven be Thou his sentry. Guard him from the tempests wintry,
Sheep and shepherd ever tending--such my prayer to heaven ascending,
O hear my cry and guard my love.
Loving Saviour, stay beside us; let Thy Holy Spirit guide us,
Keep our feet from rock and mire, till within Thy heavenly choir,
We shall rest with Thee above.

IOAN EMLYN.

John Jones was born at Newcastle Emlyn in 1818, and apprenticed to a
watchmaker at Crickho